


crosswalk

by envysparkler



Series: Pavor [9]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Accidental Brother Acquisition, Gen, Good Sibling Jason Todd, Hallucinations, Hurt/Comfort, Scarecrow's Fear Toxin (DCU), Vomiting, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:33:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28054692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/envysparkler/pseuds/envysparkler
Summary: Robin is drugged with a fear toxin knockoff, and rescued by a stranger.
Relationships: Tim Drake & Jason Todd
Series: Pavor [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1932523
Comments: 110
Kudos: 956
Collections: Red Hood vs Red Robin





	crosswalk

**Author's Note:**

> I got a whole host of fear toxin ideas.
> 
> Content warning: gory and body-horror-esque hallucinations.

Another warehouse of goons, another ill-timed strike, another set of zipties tying his wrists to the chair as one of the thugs strutted around with a baseball bat.

Just an average Tuesday, really.

Tim made his sigh as loud and put-upon as possible as the thug went on and on and _on_ about all the tortures they could enact to make Robin spill his beans. Tim was tempted to tell the idiot how to grip the bat properly to deliver a solid strike, that was how bored he was.

Batman would be here soon, these fools were too focused on information to think about killing him, and Tim bemoaned the chemistry final he was supposed to be studying for.

“You know,” the thug pointed the bat at him, “If this isn’t going to make you spill your beans, we’re going to have to… _escalate_.”

“Please,” Tim said disdainfully, “You couldn’t even bat for the Knights, and they can at least get me to cough up for a ticket and popcorn.”

The thug went red. One of his compatriots snickered, and Tim flashed a grin at the crowd.

“You want the big leagues, kid?” the thug snarled, glaring viciously, “You’re going to get them.”

“I’m quaking in my boots,” Tim retorted as the guy went over to one of his buddies and accepted something in a small brown cover.

“You certainly will be,” the thug said, satisfaction flickering in his eyes as he withdrew the contents of the cover.

One vial. Three plain, white pills. The thug’s smile grew.

Tim kept his nonchalant expression, flexing his hands in the zipties. No luck. “Say no to drugs,” he said levelly, testing the give in the ties around his ankle. The trepidation built as the thug stepped closer.

“They say this is even better than the lunatic Scarecrow’s stuff,” the thug proclaimed, and Tim had to hold back an inappropriate giggle at the thought of Crane’s face. “So, Robin? Going to tell us where the goods are?”

“At the GCPD,” Tim said with a straight face.

The thug shrugged and shook out the first pill, pinching Tim’s nose before he shoved the pill into his mouth and slammed his jaw closed. Tim struggled, but dark spots began dancing across his vision, and he was eventually forced to swallow.

The thug grinned, and let go.

_Calm down_ , Tim repeated in his head, slowing his breathing. The anxiety wasn’t real. The shadows flickering at the corner of his vision wasn’t real. The figure crouching in the rafters wasn’t real.

Tim was tied to a chair. Batman was coming. Those were the only things he needed to know. Nothing else was real.

Deep breaths. Slow and steady. Gloves gripping the chair underneath him. The feel of the mask on his face. Focus on the here and now. The dread curling in his stomach –

“Well, kid? Where are the goods?”

“Dumped them in Gotham Bay,” Tim said, flashing a quick smile, “Maybe you’ll find them if you go fishing.”

The thug didn’t appreciate that. Tim could feel his heart rate picking up, and it spiked when the goon went for the second pill.

Deep breaths. Calm down. It wasn’t real. _It wasn’t real_.

The suffocation felt like a pillow pressed across his face and Tim accidentally swallowed as he flailed – the pillow turned into a weight forcing him down and Tim tried to jerk out of the crushing grip of gravity. Someone was looming over him, a sinister smile on his face, and the shadows cut across him to carve his face into jagged lines.

_Not real_ , a distant voice kept repeating, its words growing fainter and fainter.

“Where are the goods?”

Red eyes staring out from the shadows. Blades gleaming in the darkness. Fingers wrapping around his arms, around his legs, around his throat as drumbeats pounded inside his head, discordant and thundering.

“Go to hell,” Tim choked out.

A hand with a plain white pill – a punch sinking into his gut, choking on his blood, red, red, _red_ –

Fire curled inside of him, racing through his veins, dancing on his nerves, forcing its way through his heart and higher, higher, _higher_ until it reached his brain and started bleeding out his eyes.

Tim _screamed_.

It wasn’t terror, it wasn’t a feeling he could name, it was his heart hammering against his ribs and trying to break its cage of bones, it was the screams echoing in his ears, growing louder and hoarser and turning into nails dragged down chalkboards, it was the shadows dancing around him and coalescing into fingers holding him down, forcing him still under the torture as he writhed and screamed and cried.

Needles jabbing under his fingernails.

Knives flaying skin in long, agonizing strips.

The _rat-tat-tat_ of gunfire and bursts of agony echoing all around him.

Screams, loud and snarling and pleading, curses and groans and the sudden silence that accompanied death.

The taste of metal on his tongue, choking on blood, thick and hot and dead –

“I have _one_ rule.” Loud, jarring, _furious_. “ _Don’t give drugs to kids._ ”

Red, red, gleaming red, and _he couldn’t stop screaming_ –

“Please – don’t – we didn’t – it’s _Robin_ –”

“He’s still a goddamn kid!”

Hoarse and bleeding and each wail tore itself from his throat, red and searing and bubbling acid-hot.

Whimpering, begging, _‘please’_ and _‘I’m sorry’_ and pain-filled gasps.

“You – you, I’ll leave alive.” Seething, disdainful, angry. “Anyone repeats your mistake, and I’ll come for _your_ head first.”

It felt like glass scraping the inside of his throat, but he couldn’t stop, hitched, stuttering breaths turned into shrieks as he struggled to breathe in a room filled with shadowy haze.

A monster loomed out of the darkness and Tim yanked back, but there were arms around him, chaining him to the ground, snakes wrapping around his wrists and squeezing tight and the red-faced demon laughed and laughed as it stalked closer to its prey.

“Hey. Hey, Replacement. You need to breathe.”

Wetness on his cheeks and the rivers of blood ran deep and –

A muzzle, locking around his throat, claws biting deep as they forced his mouth shut – he coughed and choked on the blood, on the screams, on the sobs.

“Shh. Shh, kid, you have to stop screaming.”

A knife, a sword, a cleaver gleaming as the light danced across the blade and he whimpered as it raised – it snapped down on his hand with a sickening crack and agony crawled up his arm at the sight of bone.

“Shh, it’s okay. I’m untying you, it’s okay.”

No, no, _no more_ , pain and dread and terror and he kicked out – and it connected, bonds falling free from his wrists and ankles – and Tim lunged away from the demon as he straightened, pausing to look for a weapon, any weapon, _anything_ –

Death.

He was standing in the midst of death.

Bodies spilled across the warehouse floor, sightless eyes staring at the rafters, blood leaking out to paint the floor a vivid red. He was standing in the midst of the pool and, as he watched, the blood crawled over his boots, creeping up and up and up –

And his lungs weren’t working as he wheezed uselessly –

And he could smell the rotting weight of death, could feel it dragging him down –

It was coming for him and he couldn’t run or hide, he couldn’t even scrape up a breath to _scream_ –

“Replacement – _kid_ – come on, breathe – _Robin_ , come on!”

Warmth around him, holding him tightly, shielding him from the death and despair and dread and grasping fingers seeking to tear him down.

Tim squeezed his eyes shut and tried to remember how to breathe.

Wind, sucking at his face, drawing tears from stinging eyes.

“It’s okay.” A low, rough voice, dancing on the edge of familiar. “I got you, it’s okay.”

He buried further in the warmth to escape the chill.

His stomach flipped, and he barely had enough time to peel out of the warmth before it rebelled entirely. The retches wracked through him, and the taste of bile was acid bitter on his tongue.

A strong grip held him through the shuddering, rubbing circles on his back as he violently expelled the contents of his stomach, humming a soothing tune as it stroked the hair away from his face.

“I know it hurts, but better it comes out,” the low voice murmured.

A song that filtered in and out, humming through the haze, the crooning in jarring contrast with the fear-terror-run- _run_ skittering through his body.

Reinforced armor under his fingertips – broad shoulders, encompassing warmth, a solid wall of protection.

“Batman,” Tim tried to croak out, and tightened his grip.

“You shouldn’t be doing this.” Quiet, with a roiling edge of anger and pain. “You’re sixteen, and you’re killing yourself for the old man’s crusade.” Something sharper than rage, something sadder than misery. “He should’ve hung up the cape and mask when it got one kid murdered.”

_You’re wrong_ , some distant part of Tim chimed.

_He did_ , a weary portion sighed.

_Jason_ , the thought pinged from a dark corner of his mind.

“– dare you? If I hadn’t been there, he would’ve _died_ –”

“– Jay. Jason. How. How are you alive –”

“– missing the _entire goddamn point_ , B, stop killing your kids –”

“– Jay-lad. _Jason_. I can’t – I don’t – _you’re alive_ –”

“– no, stop, I’m _mad_ at you – you can’t hug me –”

Warmth curled around Tim, and the voices broke off with a squawk and a suspicious sniffle.

Fear-dread-run-terror-scream cracked and began flaking off in pieces.

**Author's Note:**

> Imagine the Batman and Red Hood face-off, only there's no Joker, no bombs, and Robin is clinging to Hood like a koala.


End file.
